


leveling the playing field

by gloamingchild



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloamingchild/pseuds/gloamingchild
Summary: a quick short wherein the bounty hunter recruits a new companion... who's an old friend





	leveling the playing field

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I wrote this in 2017. I find it cringy nowadays, but I wanted to upload some old stuff onto my AO3 to show my writing progression over time.

Zamerat heard the beeping comlink from his quarters. Of course he heard--even a ship exiting hyperspace maintained a certain level of quiet. Only the humming of engines and powering down of hyperdrives disturbed the silence until the beeps started up again, ruining that tranquil atmosphere. 

“Hey, big guy, you gonna get that?” Mako yelled.

“Let it ring.”

“Suit yourself!”

He sighed and scrubbed at the toe spikes on his boots. They glinted beneath the overhead lights, free of dirt and grime, but still he brought the cloth back and forth over their surfaces. His guilty conscience was not so easily cleaned. He shouldn’t ignore the caller, but he had too much going on already. The Great Hunt deserved all of his attention. He owed it to Braden and Jory...

Soft footfalls ascended the stairs to the flight deck. He glanced up to see Mako approach his open door.

“Zam?”

Zamerat set his boots down on the bed covers. “Yeah?”

She held out his comlink. “You left this on the holocom terminal. What’s going on? It isn’t like you to dodge calls.” Her eyes searched him as she spoke, worry bringing her brows together.

“I didn’t have the hearts to block the frequency.” He accepted the device with a half-smile. “My brain told me to do it, but neither heart cooperated. No wonder zabraks have a reputation for stubbornness.”

“Who is it? Just curious.”

Zamerat looked down at the caller ID. “Pearl Toro, better known as Kraytoro. She’s a Hutt Space thug--when I last spoke to her, she was working for the Cartel.” He cleared his throat. “She’s also my ex.”

“Do you want to talk about it…?”

He shrugged. “There isn’t much to be said, if I’m honest. Things didn’t end badly, per say, but she and I wanted different things. We couldn’t reconcile those differences, so I left. That’s how Braden eventually found me.”

“Huh.” Mako slipped her hands into her jacket pockets. “Do you know why she’s calling you?”

“I’m not sure.” Zamerat pocketed the comlink. “We already have the Hunt and Taro Blood to deal with. I don’t need a new distraction.”

“Fair enough.”

“... _ should _ I call back?”

Mako, already turning to leave, stopped short and rolled her eyes at him. “Sounds like someone’s trying to convince himself, not me,” she teased. Her next words adopted a kindly tone. “Zam… if you want to call her, call her. It doesn’t mean you’re getting back together--it just means you’re, you know, hearing her out. Maybe you’ll feel better if you know her motives, good or bad.”

“Yeah…” Zamerat reached for the comlink again. “Yeah. I’ll see what she wants. If she’s trying to get back together, I’ll say I have a new partner. Hey, it’s not lying--we  _ are _ partners. She can make her own assumptions.” He winked. A smile leapt to Mako’s lips and her posture relaxed--she looked relieved to him, but he chalked it up to his hopeful imagination getting ahead of him. “Here we go.” He selected Pearl’s frequency and held the comlink to his ear.

“ _ Well, well, if it isn’t Zamerat Savajj. Remember me, Kraytoro? The BH you’ve been ghosting? Are you too important for me now? _ ”

“Stars, Pearl.”

“ _ I’ve heard talk from some of my Mandalorian buddies. Imagine my surprise when I heard your name come up in a casual conversation. Something about you surviving a melee on Kaas and entering a lucrative competition _ ?”

“Small galaxy,” Zamerat remarked. “I just finished a job on Balmorra. Once our ship refuels, we’re headed out again.”

“ _ Swing by Hutt Space _ .”

Zamerat glanced up at Mako. Their next contract was on Smuggler’s Moon--if he looked down the hall, he faintly saw the atmosphere through the cockpit’s canopy. “I’m sorry, Pearl, but I’m not interested in rekindling a failed relationship. Besides, I already have a partner.”

“ _ So do I, champ. Want a medal _ ?” Pearl retorted. “ _ I’m not calling because I care about you. I’m calling because I care about me. _ ”

“Gee.”

Pearl gave a forced laugh. “ _ I need a new start. Help me out here, comrade. Whatever you’re doing? I want in. Let’s talk over a drink. You can bring your partner if you want--mine’s off on some job. Won’t get involved. We’re long distance at the moment.” _

Zamerat raised his brows at Mako. She shrugged and gestured for him to go ahead, so he relented. “How’s Nar Shaddaa?”

“ _ Perfect. I’ll send you an exact time and place. Until then, old friend _ .”

“See y--” The channel closed. Zamerat sighed, shook his head, and tossed Mako his comlink. “She’s ten years my senior. That means she’s thirty one now. Thirty two? She has more experience than either one of us. If we can all get along, this could be worthwhile.”

“We should give it a shot,” Mako agreed, looking down at the comlink’s screen. “Taro Blood has his cronies. It’s time we leveled the playing field.”

Zamerat gave a wry smile. “Kraytoro levels a lot of things.” He stood and opened his footlocker, revealing the armor and equipment waiting patiently inside. He reached for his chestplate. “Trust me, Mako, a field will be no problem.”

  
  
  


Zamerat navigated around tables and booths, eyes skimming the fine establishment’s patrons. Most of the ceiling fixtures flickered or remained dark; strips of floor lighting struggled to pick up the slack. A balosar sat at the bar, exchanging packs of narcotics for handfuls of credits. Two women bickered in harsh undertones over a fallen body. A group of Black Sun thugs played dejarik at a table.

“Over there,” he murmured, gesturing beyond the menagerie. An armored devaronian reclined in a booth, clunky boots up on the table. As he circumvented a fallen chair, his foot landed in a sticky blue puddle--likely rodian blood. Hopefully rodian blood.

A few careful steps brought Pearl into full view. Zamerat hadn’t seen her in years, and though he’d changed, she hadn’t. He took in the familiar details. Her skin was a soft reddish-pinkish-orangish hue that looked almost human, eyes a dark blue, hair buzzed to a mere shadow on her scalp. Her spacious forehead donned the two black circles that defined a female devaronian. Ugly scars still stretched from lip corners to ears. Dark red war paint covered more of her face than usual, and her sepia tattoos crept farther up the sides of her neck, but only minor cosmetic alterations distinguished her from memory.

Why would Pearl call him?

She spun a folding knife through scarred hands, then snapped the blade shut. “Zam and Co. How nice of you to show up.” She gestured to a couple seats at the table across from the booth.

Mako sat down and flashed a smile. “Hi, Pearl--”

“Kraytoro to you.” Pearl raised a thin brow at Zamerat as he, too, sat down.. “You have a human partner. Interesting choice.”

Mako hesitated, then opted for the nice route. “I’m Mako. There’s millions of xenophobes in this galaxy--human and otherwise--but I’m not one of them.” She offered out her hand.

Pearl crossed her arms and glowered over her boots. “What’s your game?”

“Game?”

“Yeah. What do you want from me? You realize I’m already planning on joining up, right? No intentions of making any moves on ol’ Red here? You don’t have much to gain.”

Mako held her palms up in surrender. “No games. I promise.”

“Come on. Mako’s just being friendly, unlike some people here.” Zamerat leaned an elbow on the tabletop and rested his chin in his hand. “I’m guessing you called because you want a cut of my reward.”

“Yeah, that’s part of it.”

“What’s the other part?”

Pearl flipped open her knife and fanned it. “I’ve, ah, fallen out of favor with the Cartel. It’s about time, too. I need a change of pace.”

“So I was right. You do want more than this life.”

She scowled. “Right? Get this through your spiky skull--you weren’t right. I did damn well in the Cartel. I just thought that, since I’m in need of an out, I could turn to you. What I need, red guy, is an out. An old friend, not a new enemy.”

Zamerat watched the blade flash. “Different weapons, same tricks.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not sure myself.” He shifted his gaze to her eyes. “What am I supposed to make of this, Krayt? How do I know you won’t turn on Mako and I the millisecond you see an opportunity to cash in?”

Pearl looked at her reflection in the knife’s polished surface. “No one ever knows.” She pointed at him with her weapon. “That’s how you got your scars, after all. Never trust an Imp bitch.” She laughed, seeing Mako’s furrowed brows and Zamerat’s grimace. “What, did you tell your human girl an animal left those three lines on your face? Oh, it was an animal, alright, but the kind that calls itself superior by birthright. Is the Sithling a lord yet, or only an apprentice?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Zamerat murmured.

“Naturally. How did it feel, Zam? How did it feel being held down, helpless, screaming as a girl you loved--”

“Pearl Lynn Toro!” He jumped up. “I’ve heard enough. Come on, Mako--”

“Wait! For the galaxy’s sake, I’m going somewhere with this!” Pearl snapped. “I have a point to make. Let me bring it home.”

Zamerat stared at her for a long moment. Stay? Go? Mako got up and stood by his side, eyes darting back and forth between the two hired guns. For a while, no one moved. No one said a word.

Finally, Pearl broke the silence.

“You’re too good of a man for this lifestyle. You show mercy on your targets. You lie awake at night remembering those who didn’t receive such mercies. You feel an urge to be kind to everyone; your exceptions are few and far in between. You know what your problem is, Zam? You suffer from a guilty conscience.” Pearl leaned forward and slammed the knife tip down on the table. Zamerat and Mako startled and reached for their weapons, but Pearl continued. “I’m not like you. I have no conscience. I’ll do what you two won’t. If you can’t bring yourself to carry something out, I’ll take care of it. You’ll get your hands dirty, sure, but…” She sheathed the knife. “The true dirt will rub off on my hands, and they’re already as black as devaronian blood. It doesn’t hurt me. It doesn’t hurt you. So what do you say?”

Zamerat took a deep breath and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. He looked to Mako, but she said nothing, so instead he looked to himself. They needed to win the Great Hunt. They needed to level the playing field…

Or perhaps a building or two.

“Welcome to the crew,” he said. “For now.”

Pearl picked up her clamshell-shaped helmet, stylized with a spiky lower jaw and two curved horns. She gave a grin that displayed her own brutal teeth and shoved the helm onto her head. “For now,” she agreed, rising to her feet and circling around the table. She slung her arms over Zamerat and Mako’s shoulders. “So who are we after?”

“I don’t know yet. We have to speak to our contact--he’s waiting on the Promenade.”

“I’m banned from the Promenade. Call me when your little chit-chat is over and I’ll join the party.” She turned and sauntered towards the exit, raising a hand in farewell. Zamerat sighed again and waved back, exchanging a look with Mako.

“Imp bitch?” she asked.

“I’ll tell you someday, but today is not that day.” With a slow shake of his head, he faced the exit himself. “So that’s Pearl Toro. I know she’s… challenging, but she’ll be just as challenging to our enemies.” He glanced back at Mako. “I have no secrets when it comes to me and her. We only lasted a couple months. It was one of those things that burned hot and fast--I made the mistake of hanging around after it died. By the end of it, we couldn’t stand to see each other… and here we are today.”

A slow smile crept onto Mako’s face. “Wowzer. You really know how to pick ‘em, big guy.”

“Shush.” Zam gave her a light shove and headed for the exit himself. He glanced around, but Pearl was long gone by the time they stepped onto the streets. They left the cantina behind and hailed a taxi speeder--next stop, the Promenade.


End file.
